Alabama Hills

Dawn begins to light Mt. Langley and the wild rock formations of the Alabama Hills
Dawn begins to light Mt. Langley and the wild rock formations of the Alabama Hills. Canon 70-200mm f/4L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 200. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 1.6 sec. at f/16.

A popular stop on any eastern Sierra tour is the Alabama Hills outside of Lone Pine. I’ve been here before, but every time I come back I see new things to focus on and photograph. Dawn is the most versatile time to shoot the area, as your photographs are enhanced by the intense alpenglow that adorns the 14,000 foot peaks to the west.

The two dominating mountain subjects in this area are Mt. Langley (above) and the Mt. Whitney massif (below). I was lucky to shoot the area after an early season snow storm, so I had some snow to contrast the red rock of the mountain tops. The Alabama Hills are covered with interesting boulder shapes, which provides endless photographic possibilities.

The peak of Mt. Whitney glows red in the early morning light
The peak of Mt. Whitney glows red in the early morning light. Canon 70-200mm f/4L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 200. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 1/4 sec. at f/16.

Using an entire arsenal of lens lengths is key to this area. Wide angles work well framing mountains inside of arches. Medium lengths can use rock formations as foregrounds, while not diminishing the relative size of the massive mountains in the background (as seen in the first photo). Perhaps my favorite in this area however, are the long lenses. Point them anywhere and you’ll see interesting rock detail or a study of the cracks and crags that define a mountain face.

Moments after the sun rises over the Nevada desert, the peak of Mt. Whitney glows a bright orange
Moments after the sun rises over the Nevada desert, the peak of Mt. Whitney glows a bright orange. Canon 100-400mm f/5.6L lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 400. Evaluative metering +1/3 EV: 1/500 sec. at f/5.6.
Snow, rock, shadow and light combine to illustrate the steep slopes of Mt. Langley at dawn
Snow, rock, shadow and light combine to illustrate the steep slopes of Mt. Langley at dawn. Canon 100-400mm f/5.6L lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 400. Evaluative metering +1/3 EV: 1/640 sec. at f/5.6.

I kept shooting until the red glow of the mountains faded to its natural gray, and the long shadows of dawn began to shrink. I looked to the shady spots so that I didn’t have to work against the harsh shadows of mid morning. My eye was drawn to the variety of cactus growing in this high desert. In order to separate the cactus from their busy surroundings, I attached my 70-200mm lens and got down on my stomach. I worked with apertures that gave me just enough depth of field for the cactus, but threw the background out of focus.

Cholla cactus thrives in the high desert of the Alabama Hills
Cholla cactus thrives in the high desert of the Alabama Hills. Canon 70-200mm f/4L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 100. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 1/250 sec. at f/4.
A modest beavertail cactus grows in the Alabama Hills
A modest beavertail cactus grows in the Alabama Hills. Canon 70-200mm f/4L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 100. Evaluative metering +1 1/3 EV: 1/10 sec. at f/8.

After another hour, it was time to pack up for the morning and head out. If I had several days here, I would use this part of the day to explore and scout potential spots for future sunsets and sunrises. Unfortunately this day, I had other places to visit.

Hot Creek Sunrise

Moments before the sun rises, Hot Creek reflects the cool glow of snow covered peaks
Moments before the sun rises, Hot Creek reflects the cool glow of snow covered peaks. Canon 24-70mm f/2.8L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 200. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 30 sec. at f/16.

One of my first sunrise shoots on my recent trip to the eastern Sierra was at Hot Creek. I wanted to catch some snow from the recent snow storm before it melted out of the mountains, and I knew this spot would work well with longer lenses to help emphasize the mountains.

The first shot was taken a half hour before sunrise. The scene was just starting to light up, but still maintained some of the cooler hues of night. Although there were no clouds to work with, there was some slight haze above the mountains, which reflected some of the deep purple of pre-dawn.

One of my biggest challenges in these early morning shoots is staying warm as I patiently wait behind my tripod for the light to change. For this location, the main foreground attraction was really the flowing creek, so I didn’t move around a lot. If you had been there that morning, you would have seen what looked like a crazy person jumping up and down and blowing on his hands to keep warm (yes, I forgot my gloves that morning).

Grass adorns the banks of Hot Creek as sun touches the mountains to the east
Grass adorns the banks of Hot Creek as sun touches the mountains to the east. Canon 24-70mm f/2.8L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 100. Evaluative metering -1 EV: .3 sec. at f/16.

After the sun rose and I felt I captured that part of the creek in the best light of the morning, I explored with the camera a little trying out different foregrounds and lens lengths. I’m a sucker for near/far verticals, and that’s what my eye gravitated toward when I saw this long grass growing along the bank of the creek.

Soon enough the photo shoot was over, as the morning light faded and fishermen began to show up along the length of the creek.

The Search for Sky Rock

Created long ago by Native Americans, the Sky Rock Petroglyph's location is kept fairly private. It is only shared through word of mouth so that it can be kept safe.

The blazing sun beat down on us as we scanned the horizon looking for more rock piles, heaved up eons ago from the ancient volcanic surface on which we stood.

“Hey Dan, wanna try over there?” I asked, pointing to a long stretch of ten to thirty foot wide boulders. Dan nodded and we trudged across the high desert plateau to search another area.

I was with my photographer friend Dan Canfield, and we had decided on our first night in town that we would try to find a secret Native American petroglyph, in recent years dubbed “Sky Rock”. Not found on any map, this ancient rock drawing is kept secret from the general public. Those in “the know” don’t divulge its location so that fewer people will visit, and its condition will be kept as pristine as natural forces allow. After some hunting, we narrowed down the location to its general vicinity, but even then, the ancient carving eluded us.

It was midday, and our second attempt at searching. Our first attempt was during sunset the evening before, and we quickly ran out of time trying to find it before dark. This time we were armed with a little more research, and many more hours of daylight. Finally, after much scrambling, a few skinned knees, and crawling into some dark and nasty places, we found it! We were giddy with excitement.

Created long ago by Native Americans, the Sky Rock Petroglyph's location is kept fairly private.  It is only shared through word of mouth so that it can be kept safe.
Created long ago by Native Americans, the Sky Rock Petroglyph’s location is kept fairly private. It is only shared through word of mouth so that it can be kept safe.

Carved into a flat rock, this series of drawings is different than most other petroglyphs because of its horizontal orientation. Most Native American drawings were done on vertical walls. The drawings are carved into the rock about an inch deep, to reveal the lighter colored stone underneath the darker outer coating. We took some photos, sat for a while, and scouted our route so that we could come back in the dark. Midday was great for searching, but as photographers, we wanted only the best light, which would be either sunrise or sunset. Our schedule allowed for a sunrise shoot in a couple of days, so all we could do was cross our fingers and hope for good weather.

The mountains of the easter Sierra Nevada glow red over the Sky Rock Petroglyph, just outside of Bishop, CA
The mountains of the easter Sierra Nevada glow red over the Sky Rock Petroglyph, just outside of Bishop, CA

The history of this carving is not well known. Some have theorized that it was probably created by the ancestors of what are today known as the Owens Valley Paiute, possibly as long as 8,000 years ago.

It was a very special experience spending some time on this rock as the sun lit first the western mountains, and then the valley below us. I devoured the silence of the morning, and felt a special energy around this place. It was an amazing feeling to know that this human creation had sat here for similar sunrises, long lazy days, and powerful storms for millennia.

Possibly the best part of finding Sky Rock was the fact that it was hidden. In the days of instant gratification and unlimited knowledge, it was nice to really have to work for answers.

Bishop Sunset

Dramatic clouds build over the peaks of the Evolution Basin of King's Canyon National Park.
Dramatic clouds build over the peaks of the Evolution Basin of King's Canyon National Park. Canon 70-200mm f/4L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 800. Evaluative metering 2/3 EV: 1/160 sec. at f/8.

Earlier this month I made a trip to Bishop, CA and the surrounding areas to see what the autumn colors had to offer this year. I knew it would be unpredictable, given the huge snowfall of the previous winter, combined with this year’s short summer. The weather played one final card as an early snow storm moved in right before my trip, dumping snow in the mountains. Unfortunately, this snow killed off the trademark fall color of the eastern Sierra, turning those golden Aspen leaves to brown and black. However, I was treated to a pristine white mountain backdrop, at least for a few days.

The sun plays dramatically across storm clouds as it sets behind the eastern Sierra range
The sun plays dramatically across storm clouds as it sets behind the eastern Sierra range. Canon 70-200mm f/4L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 800. Evaluative metering 1/3 EV: 1/200 sec. at f/8.

When I got into town, I met up with photographer friend Dan Canfield, and set out to the Chalk Bluffs north of Bishop for the first sunset of the trip. As dusk approached, it looked like the sunset would be a dud. One small wispy cloud mocked our photographic anticipation.

However, as the sun crept toward the eastern mountains, dramatic clouds began building up and materializing above the horizon. Once the sun set behind the range, we were treated to twenty minutes of pure (and frantic) delight. The colors played across the ever-changing clouds, which congealed and dissipated with casual acquaintance. Soon it was all over, as the sun slipped away yet again.

These moments always pass too quickly, but that’s part of what makes them so special. I felt blessed to witness such a powerful display of natural forces in one of our earth’s special places. Stay tuned for much more from this trip – I’m processing the photos as quickly as time allows!

Copyright 2017 Hank Christensen